Hunger
by ClicktoFree
Summary: Harry thinks he has a good relationship with food. Some people might say a little too good. Will a new school help? AU First Year, comfort eating, fat/chubby Harry.
1. Chapter 1

Hunger

Mr and Mrs Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense.

And yet something rather unusual was taking place in their hallway. A boy emerged silently from the cupboard under the stairs, the latch had been opened expertly so it didn't make a sound. The boy shook a spider from his hair and padded down the hallway.

In the ten years that he had been there, Privet Drive really hadn't changed very much at all- not that Harry Potter cared. He quickly began rummaging through the drawers and cupboards in the kitchen, stopping when someone rolled over in their sleep upstairs or murmured something in a dream. When this happened his heart would beat uncontrollably, certain that they would run down stairs and he would be found out.

With an armful of chocolate bars, biscuits and crisps he crept into the living room and sat carefully on the sofa. The only light to see by was the little that snuck in from the lights outside. It glinted off the metal photo frames that were hung on the walls and across the mantelpiece, even though it was impossible to see the pictures, Harry knew what was there. Numerous pictures of his cherished cousin- riding a bike he got for Christmas, playing a computer or being hugged by his mother.

It was sickening, Harry thought as taste exploded along his tongue from a salt and vinegar crisp. He probably ate too much. Whilst he wasn't nearly as fat as that carcass his cousin hauled about, he had been very distressed to realise that it was now difficult to see his feet. However he was always reassured by the looseness of the hand-me-downs from his cousin and kept coming back for more food.

It was comforting, he supposed as he tiptoed up stairs. The wrappers and packets were artfully scattered around his cousins' bedroom, (who slept like the dead anyway, so Harry wasn't too worried about the rustling awaking him).

The summer holidays would be starting soon, and although this meant he wouldn't have to worry about being tired at school- or anything to do with school. He couldn't help but feel a pang or irritation at how much more difficult this would make his ritual. The Dursley's very often stayed up till the early hours during the Holidays. It was going to be very tedious.

* * *

A/N: It is my intention to continue this…but that doesn't mean a lot. Sorry if it's awful. 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

By the time Harry was let out of the cupboard, his idiotic cousin, Dudley, had already managed to break half of his birthday presents. Harry had been locked in his "bedroom" for one of many strange incidents that revolved around him.

Now, most sensible adults would consider the glass disappearing from the front of the boa constrictor enclosure a freak accident. They would almost certainly want to know why the keeper of the reptile house had been so neglectful. Unfortunately for Harry, his uncle and aunt weren't like most sensible adults.

Despite appearances, to which they had done exactly that - they had complained, and the zoo director himself had been forced to apologise profusely. Once they were home, however, and Dudley's friend was safely out of the house, they acted completely irrationally. Suddenly it was all Harry's fault that the reptile had escaped.

Harry lay in his cupboard fuming; it wasn't fair. He had lost his watch at the zoo, so he couldn't be sure the Dursleys were asleep yet. His aunt and uncle's unfavourable view of events hadn't been helped by Dudley telling his parents that the snake had nearly bitten his leg off. Or his friend, Piers, who said it had tried to squeeze them to death.

At least during the day he could wander around as much as he liked, and think about the end of the holidays. At his current school, Harry had no one to associate with. Dudley and his gang hated Harry with his baggy old clothes and broken glasses. And nobody liked to disagree with Dudley's gang.

However, when September came, he would be going to Stonewall High, the local comprehensive. Dudley had found this hilarious because it had a reputation for being rough, and liked to joke that they flushed people's heads down the toilet. These taunts hadn't been nearly as effective as his cousin had intended.The chance to have a new start, all to himself and without his family, was something that Harry valued highly.

The day Harry saw his "new" uniform was depressing. He had awoken to a horrible smell and followed it to a large metal tub in the kitchen. He went to have a look. The tub was full of what looked like filthy rags swimming in dirty water.

"What's this?" he asked Aunt Petunia. It had been a risk, he knew that but asking questions always was in this household. Predictably, her lips tightened as they always did if he asked a question.

"Your new school uniform," she replied simply.

He looked in the bowl again.

"Oh," he said. "I didn't realise it had to be so wet."

It would make her angry but he hadn't eaten breakfast, and couldn't quite resist the dig. He knew uniforms could be expensive but honestly, was a second hand set too much to ask for?

"Don't act stupid," snapped Aunt Petunia. "I'm dying some of Dudley's old things grey for you. It'll look just like everyone else's when I'm finished."

Harry seriously doubted this. Of course a standard uniform was too much to ask. He was Harry Potter - no parents, no family, no friends…and currently no breakfast. This distracted him from imagining how he would look at Stonewall High - like he was wearing bits of old elephant skin, probably.

Dudley and Uncle Vernon came in quite late and Harry had already swiped a substantial amount of food from their plates. He had become quite adept at this and it was very easy considering his aunt was distracted with his uniform.

Uncle Vernon had just opened his newspaper as usual when he heard the click of the letterbox and the flop of letters onto the doormat.

"Get the post, Dudley," said Uncle Vernon from behind his paper.

"I'll get it," Harry quickly interrupted, eyeing Dudley carefully. His cousin was far too eager to bang things with his smelting stick, which he carried everywhere. Harry could see himself becoming a victim in the near future.

Three things lay on the doormat: a postcard from Uncle Vernon's sister, Marge, who was holidaying on the Isle of Wight, a brown envelope that looked like a bill, and - a letter for Harry.

Harry picked it up and stared at it, his heart twanging like a giant elastic band. No one had ever, in his whole life, written to him. When he was little, he had always imagined some unknown relative coming to rescue him, but of course, they had not. The Dursley's were his only relatives and he had no friends - so who could have sent it?

And here it was, a letter, addressed so plainly there could be no mistake:

Mr H. Potter  
The Cupboard under the Stairs  
4 Privet Drive  
Little Whinging  
Surrey

Strangely, there was no stamp and the envelope was oddly thick and heavy, made of yellowish parchment with the address in green ink. Even queerer, the envelope had been closed with a purple wax seal bearing a coat of arms: a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a large letter "H".

"Hurry up, boy!" shouted Uncle Vernon from the kitchen. "What are you doing, checking for letter-bombs?"

Harry breathed in sharply, if the Dursleys knew he had a letter, they would take it from him. He pushed the letter into his pocket as carefully as he could, but he could feel the edge crumple slightly. Harry traipsed back into the kitchen and nonchalantly handed his uncle the bill and the postcard.

Uncle Vernon ripped open the bill, snorted in disgust, and flipped over the postcard.

"Marge's ill," he informed Aunt Petunia. "Ate a funny whelk…"

That evening, Harry finally got to read his letter. He took a deep breath and straightened out the envelope. His hands trembled with excitement as he carefully pulled out the letter - which was written in green ink, on that same yellowish parchment, giving it the quality of looking old - and read:

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore  
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards)_

_Dear Mr Potter, We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall  
Deputy Headmistress_

For a few seconds he just held the letter and blinked with thick lashes, completely dumbfounded. Then anger washed over him, making his chest clench painfully and his cheeks flush. This…this had to be a joke.

His first letter and it says, "reply by owl?"

The Dursleys were probably upstairs rolling around laughing about it now, he thought furiously. Eyes burning, he awkwardly brushed away a treacherous tear and screwed the letter into a messy ball before unceremoniously tossing it aside.

While he ate his midnight snack, Harry wondered if his relatives really had the imagination for that sort of joke, but quickly dismissed it as foolish, wishful thinking.

A/N: Something weird happened to the format when I uploaded this, so I had to put all the chapters back in.

-Thanks a lot, Shay-Piratess for helping me and being my beta. This chapter would have been a lot messier otherwise.-


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